


Powerhouse

by GuileandGall



Series: Deification of the Condemned [7]
Category: Saints Row
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Hand Kisses, Sparring
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-24
Updated: 2016-11-24
Packaged: 2018-09-01 20:23:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 686
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8636890
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GuileandGall/pseuds/GuileandGall
Summary: Sparring with Ravi does not always go as planned with Johnny.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by a rather ambiguous prompt that could have been one of four things. Judging from the time that it came in I assumed that it was for the Kisses Prompts and went with the #5 from that list which was a hand kiss.

Ravi was not a powerhouse. Even so, she was a hell of a straight-up fighter, and, from time to time, she could hit a man harder than they expected. Once and awhile, she even still managed to catch Johnny off guard.

When he waltzed into the gym on the mother ship seven minutes late according to her clock, which she knew was actually early in Johnny-time, that was exactly what she intended. He was also late by every other human and alien timekeeping standard. She pounced off the crates and landed on his back, making him drop the bag he had been carrying.

“What the—?” She cut off his garbled greeting with a tight forearm around his throat.

“You’re late,” she growled in his ear. Her legs wrapped around his torso to combat any attempt he might make to pull her over his shoulder. Eventually he’d surely get the leverage on her, she knew, and when he did, she pushed off his back, her feet hitting the mat first to take some of the impact and lessening the sting across her back.

“What the fuck, Rav?”

The boss still held his hand fast, so that when she spun, she got him into a quick wrist lock, which earned her a growl. But he had the advantage of position and freed himself.

“You’re late, John.”

She started to roll to a stand, but he took out her weight bearing leg, knocking her on her ass again. She returned the favor with a measured kick to the side of his bad knee. Once she had him at her level, Ravi scrambled up. He fell for her usual tell, going to block the jab as her other hand came around in a big hook.

Johnny shook his head and lunged at her. Ravi barely slipped out of his reach, but her distance gave him enough time to get back to his feet.

“Yeah. Well, _my boss_ insisted that I help her boy toy with testing some new gadget of his,” he argued.

“Stop acting like you don’t love him to pieces, too,” Ravi scolded as she danced lithely just out of his range.

Johnny just smirked, then a grin played over his face.

They both knew that now it was dance. He’d swing and she’d try to dodge or jab his kidneys once or twice. It went that way for a while, the disadvantage for each of them proved to be their well-matched stamina. They could do this for hours and had from time to time. This time around though, their timer became the fact that neither had the chance to wrap their hands.

“All right?” Gat asked when the blood flew from his lover’s bottom lip.

After he swiped his chin, she nodded in his direction. “Think you caught a fight bite, cher.”

Johnny looked at his hand with a gruff laugh. “Eh?”

Ravi’s stance changed almost instantly. Ignoring her own injury, she walked over and inspected his hand. Then she disappeared for a moment, only to return just as quickly with a few packets in her hand. The antiseptic stung, the gooey ointment soothed, and the bandage she placed over felt awkward. They both knew it would likely fall off in an hour or two. Her hands, which minutes earlier had been something to avoid, smoothed over his fingers and she pressed a warm kiss atop the bandage.

“All better,” Ravi pronounced with a certainty that brought a smile to his lips.

“Always. How’s the lip?” Johnny asked, curling his finger beneath her chin and lifting it upwards to inspect the cut.

She shrugged. “Fine.”

His thumb rubbed below her lip. The wince told him it was anything but fine. Johnny slipped one arm around her waist and pulled her closer. “Guess I’ll have to find a less painful way to say thank you,” he purred as his lips brushed against the warm fleshy spot between her thumb and forefinger. An unbroken line of tiny kisses traveled over the back of her hand, as his eyes flicked upward to hold her gaze while he continued his trek.


End file.
